Puppeteer: The 536th Hunger Games
by Dissection of the Mind
Summary: To control or be controlled is the question..
1. Prologue

_**Puppeteer: The 536th Hunger Games**_

**Prologue **

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><p>Maybe they were wooden carvings, all hollowed out and empty. Maybe their strings were pulled at any chance we got. Maybe we held them in our hand as they lay limp, in our control. For whomever cared, maybe we did paint on their grins and throw them out on center stage, where the light shone directly on them watching every movement and waiting for that one mistake that always came.<p>

Maybe.

And there was a high possibility that their strings were cut eventually, when nobody cared to remember who they were or what they did...

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><p><strong>Capitol Citizen's POV-<strong>

I flipped through the magazine blindly, boredom and anger about to corrupt my heart. Ever since the last uneventful victor's tour I had noticed myself lagging in spirits. Actually, I had been noticing it for awhile. You see, I was typically one to be all dandy and fine, happy even. Yet for the past decade it seemed I felt as if I was getting bored. The only thing I ever really had to look forward to were the yearly games.

Though last year's seemed really boring, and I mean really. The victor most indefinitely was not up to my standards in his actions or words. I was rather disappointed in him, especially when I sent him some gifts in the final eight. He had little notes attached, but he seemed to just used what I gave him and not bothering to act like I wanted him to. I was so angry. In fact, I still am! What kind of victor is he? Just because he was from one of those career districts doesn't mean he has the right.

I really hope this year I can make somebody listen.

With an aggravated growl I throw the magazine across the room. My hair stylist looks at me with slight surprise in her eyes as she glances from the discarded book to my hair.

"Give me the latest trend, dammit!" I practically yelled. She jumped and nodded, looking over to her coworker who was working on some old hag's hair. Well, I didn't know her age but she had wrinkles on her hands as she touched the finished product. I glared at the floor, the picture of the victor in sight. Apparently he was doing interviews now. Stupid child.

I felt the slight pain of my hair being pulled back and gritted my teeth. The woman twirled it around some object whose name is not relevant to me with shaky hands.

"Um, miss?" the woman asked nervously, as if I would _strike_ her or something. Oh, I wish.

"What?" I asked through clenched teeth, my blue like hand tightening. I was feeling really angry, very angry. I still do not understand why none of them listen!

"W-what colors do you want? Um.. you can pick three for the style."

"Stop being a stupid little scaredy cat!" I screamed angrily, trying my hardest not to stomp out the door. Instead of leaving I pound my fists on the chair arms.

"Uh.. uh okay. W-what colors though?" she gulped, her grip on the device loosening. I could feel it being removed from one area and being placed in the next.

"My usual." I muttered, anger still clear in my words.

"Um.. I'm new here.. I don't know what you usual is?" she squeaked at the end and it took a lot of self control not to turn around and slap her face. How could she not know my usual?! Seriously, I even asked the owner to make sure everyone knew.. or was that.. hmm.

"Blood red, fiery orange and a pine green." I growled, adjusting my butt on the salon chair. I could hear her nodding because her earrings were making funny noises.

"Sounds good."she said quietly.

As she continued I gave a forced sigh, looking at a freshly manicured hand. The color was just a light tan, contrasting greatly with my blue skin. I felt the sudden urge to rip all of them out but what good would that do me? I'd just be throwing away my own money causing myself ultimately to become angrier. I'd rather destroy my current stylist hair or something much more drastic. Maybe I could set fire to this place? Oo, what about setting fire to all of those magazines, I really getting tired of seeing the boy's face.

Just why the hell could he not listen?! I sent him all of that stuff and how does he repay me?! By just using it?

"Done." the woman said, her voice going down an octave lower, if possible. I stood up with force muttering a thank you though my blood was boiling. I turned around to look at the lady as she shrunk in fear and I offered a wide grin.

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><p><strong>Another SYOT! Why am I doing this when I am already writing a few other stories? Well, for my Pokémon ones.. I put 'em on hiatus until I get some inspiration for that area. And yeah, I know sometimes it takes me a bit to update, but this should help with new ideas if that makes sense! As well.. working on two SYOT's seems interesting to me, lol. Anyways, form will be on profile and a few rules and whatnot will be below. As well as a tribute list as it goes... Yay?<strong>

**Also, the arena clearly has something to do with the name. I actually dropped a few hints in the Capitol persons POV, which could be subtle, idk. Tell me what you think I suppose! :D**

_**Rules: FORM ON PROFILE**_

***No mary-sues or recycled tributes please!**

***This is not first come first served..well.. I guess it kinda is? Haha, not sure**

***Please do not submit in reviews, I don't want this taken down. As well, if you don't have an account and inexplicably decide to make one.. yet you have to wait two days feel free to ask me to reserve!**

***I will reserve spots. If it says reserved it doesn't mean you still can't send one to that spot, It just means that I'll be looking out for whoever.. reserved it? Makes sense I hope lol**

*** PLEASE, when you send me a pm (for I am only accepting through them) LABEL the pm with the name of your tribute and 'Puppeteer'. Thanks :)**

**Ex: Lemon Meringue-Puppeteer **

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><p><strong>Tribute List~<strong>

**District One-Luxury**

**Male: **Theon Caius Decry, 18

**Female: **Sapphire Grace, 16

**District Two-Masonry**

**Male: **Cassius Largent, 16

**Female: **Lorein Grentee,17

**District Three-Electronics**

**Male: **Zwölf Fleischer, 17

**Female: **Emin Luxe, 13

**District Four-Fishing**

**Male: **Keating Cullen, 17

**Female: **Blaid Bangkok Sr., 15

**District Five-Power**

**Male: **Verion Calamen,18

**Female: **Ariana Winter, 15

**District Six-Transportation/Medicine **

**Male: **King Brennus, 15

**Female: **Aura Counter,16

**District Seven-Lumber**

**Male: **Quill Grove, 17

**Female: **Olivia Bane, 17

**District Eight-Textiles**

**Male: **Kiran Wolde, 15

**Female: **India Blair,16

**District Nine-Grain**

**Male: **Timothy Porter,16

**Female: **Hime Kaitsuki, 17

**District Ten-Livestock**

**Male: **Dallas Karson, 18

**Female: **Adrian Byes, 14

**District Eleven-Agriculture**

**Male: **Rocky Dolvin, 16

**Female: **Balia Lois Conti, 17

**District Twelve-Coal Mining**

**Male: **Seere Oka, 18

**Female: **Crythsanthe Erilea, 16

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><p><strong>P.S.. I know Bombs could be added to D3.. at least wiki says so :3<strong>

**P.P.S: For those whom it may concern I will respond ASAP! :)**


	2. That Which Makes Us

_**Puppeteer: The 536th Hunger Games**_

**Chapter Two: That Which Makes Us**

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><p>He didn't actually believe they'd do it, especially the girl. He and Seneca both believed she'd let him slip the berries down his throat and spit out her own as his cannon sounded. Though, they had no such luck.<p>

When Katniss held out the berries, Cornelius Snow simply scoffed. The girl was a selfish one that had promised the only person she truly cared about she'd return home, and Cornelius was certain she'd do anything to do as such.

Due to her background, obvious personality, and slight dislike for the boy, he thought he had her pinned down. Though, he supposed he got a little too cocky... For as soon as two individual cannons sounded, Cornelius felt shock.

When that happened, most fell silent.

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><p>Some of the districts lost hope, others, the act sparked it. For the fact that in some way the two from twelve defied the games, hope flooded the district's veins, causing a few rebellious outburst here and there.<p>

Though, as quickly as the outbursts started they were subdued. As soon as the two died, the President had gotten to recruiting more peacekeepers with stricter agendas, and more corrupt ideals. They would be the ones who would squash all hope by publicly executing those affiliated with this years tributes. They would be the ones who would watch the districts every move, pushing them back in line when any one person tried to stray.

Snow had a more in depth reason for doing as such, for everything came down to district thirteen.

The berry act had revealed a growing rebellion, deep within the district they had tried to keep hidden, safe. Of course it wasn't Snow's idea to do as such, it was his predecessor's.

The thirteenth district hadn't made any movements, no, they didn't yet. With the mockingjay dead, Coin had no beacon. She'd have to wait until the Capitol was vulnerable or when another possible symbol came along. Coin didn't expect Katniss to die, for Alma's ideas for rebellion had already spread to a few trusted victors, on purpose of course. They involved the girl. She thought when they got to the final two and pulled their stunt, she had her perfect person for her ideas.

Even when both died, she continued on with her plans for she heard from confidantes that the District's began to revolt, and in her clouded vision.. she thought there was still a plausibility to pull a successful rebellion off.

Though, when the Capitol had rounded up some victors for the 75th, and gathered those remaining who didn't volunteer or weren't reaped.. that's when those who already knew about it began to crack. Snow at first had only planned on executing them, to show even victor's held no power. Yet, when they began to kill them, those trusted begged for their lives. They didn't want to loose what they had fought so hard for. Sure, if overthrowing the Capitol was possible they would have kept their mouths shut, lost their lives for the greater good. Yet as families died and the possibility of a successful rebellion dwindled, they offered information.

Cornelius was curious and spared there lives if only momentarily, and as soon as he got the information he allowed them to go free. For about a year or so. Eventually, Cornelius had gotten rid of all of the previous victors, starting afresh with it all. To him.. it seemed like it would work.

He hoped at least.

District thirteen soon was quietly and permanently destroyed.

The districts continued to become stricter and more controlled until Cornelius died and control then lessened. Though, the Capitol still did have an iron grip.

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><p><strong>Hey there peeps! This is just a little history as to why the games are still going on, idea of why goes to <em>Takai No Hibiki, <em>who is an amazing author just so you know.**

**Also, just so you know.. It at times takes me awhile to update, but don't worry, I will. I don't give up that easily, haha. Okay, maybe the majority of the time.. And I know I'm not the best writer but I am to improve! Thank you guys btw, :D**

**Alsooooo, hope this made a decent amount of sense! If not, well.. pretty much Katniss and Peeta both successfully commited suicide.. yep. **

**On a side note, I do need more tributes so you can submit up to two if you'd like.. Or you could be like random dude, sign up for this because the author is all blah. You feel me? **

**YOU FEEL ME?**

**Okay, good. Heh.**


	3. Of Ignorance and Excitment D1-4 Reapings

_**Puppeteer: The 536th Hunger Games**_

**Chapter Three: Of Ignorance and Excitement**

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><p><em><strong>Reapings: District 1-4<strong>_

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><p><span><strong>District One:<strong>

"Are you prepared?" Katerina asked as she straightened her daughter's blouse, face stern and unmoving.

Sapphire scoffed in response, rolling her eyes slightly. She found it ridiculous that her mother would even ask such a thing. Of course she was ready! Had she not been training for this the majority of her life? "Well, duh." she responded earning a harsh glare from the woman before her. Sapphire didn't respond as her mother turned on heel, heading toward the large vanity at her right.

When Katerina came back to her waiting daughter, she gave a slight smirk. Sapphire felt slightly confused at the facial expression, yet said nothing as a sapphire necklace was hooked around her neck. She smiled as the cool metal kissed her skin, and reached to gently to hold the gem in her hands. It was amusing to be wearing your name, she had to admit. Well, maybe not amusing. Katerina gave her daughter a moment before parting her ruby coated lips. "Let's go."

Sapphire nodded with a smile and followed her mom into the hallway, soon reaching the sunlight. Sapphire was glad she lived closer to the town square then some of her peers, it gave her easy access to shops and whatnot. Looking down to the alabaster sidewalk she gave a content sigh, giving a small skip. She felt.. excited. Soon she found herself in line behind a horde of girls, all decked out in whatever they thought was beautiful and appropriate. Sapphire watched as her mother stalked over to where she assumed her father would be, her attention soon drawn to the peacekeeper asking for her finger. They still pricked fingers to this day, and Sapphire found it a bit ridiculous. There was just something about it.

As she headed over to the sixteen year old section, she kicked off her heels soon grabbing them. The ground was hot upon her feet, yet she didn't really care. She would be memorable at least in some way, even if the thing she was doing wasn't anything giant. A few people seemed to notice and looked at her, but she just smirked.

The bigger the risk the greater the reward.

Well, it wasn't really a risk, though she knew both of her parents would be pissed off, her mom more so for she was a very socially aware person. Though, she supposed if her volunteering was memorable at least to some degree, it would mean sponsers,right?

"Only one way to find out." she muttered to herself, pushing past a few people. Her feet were beginning to dirty, she noticed as the escort took the stage. She'd probably have to do something about that.

"Welcome, District One! How are we today?" she asked with a giant grin. Scales seemed to be all over her body, in a dark green. It looked a disgusting, the woman reminded Sapphire of puke.

Polite cheers emerged as the woman's grin widened. "First off, the females!" she cleared her throat and placed a well-manicured hand into the bowl. "Ster-"

"I volunteer!" Sapphire began to run to the stage, making it there shortly. Setting her heels on the ground beside the escort she smiled, offering her hand. The woman took it with a bewildered expression. "Sapphire Grace is my name, your new victor!" she winked and opened her mouth again, only for the microphone to be snatched from her.

"And to the males! Jaspar Rer-" she was cut off yet again by a male voice.

"Theon Caius Decry." the bronze haired boy stated as his hand latched around the microphone. "And your _actual _victor, glad to make your day." he smirked, directing the last part at the escort. A red seemed to appear beneath the escort's green skin as she cleared her throat yet again.

"District One your tributes!"

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><p><span><strong>District Two:<strong>

"Apparently you're not as likable as you think you are." the girl commented snidely, her lips puckered in distaste.

"Who said I wanted to be likable?" Lorein snapped, her brown eyes narrowing. Though the comment did sting slightly. The girl's expression faltered briefly before she recomposed her distasteful look. There was a silent paused as Lorein just glared at the smaller girl, who seemed to be around fifteen or so. After a minute or two Lorein spoke, "Move out of my way, I'm pretty sure you have something better to do." her glare didn't falter. She really didn't have time for this, she had places to be. Like town square. She definitely was in no mood to be insulted by some young girl for what felt like several minutes.

"Say please." she replied with a smirk.

Lorein's glare seemed to intensify and the girl shrunk into herself slightly. "_Move._" she repeated placing her hands on her hips. Another moment passed as they girl seemed to be debating whether or not to move elsewhere. When she didn't move right away Lorein rolled her eyes, noting the free space around them. She was seriously pushing it. "_Mov-_" the girl turned on heel with a flip of her hair. Lorein's hand clenched into fists as she stalked behind the girl, grabbing her dark hair. With a yank the girl gave a surprised yelp, her hands automatically fumbling to find the hands pulling hair from her scalp. With a harsh tug the girl fell on her butt, a growl escaping her lips. For a moment it seemed as if she would get up and lunge, yet she just slowly dusted herself off climbing to her feet. The girl pasted a knowing grin on her face as she began to walk away, much to Lorein's distaste.

"Not so fast!" Lorein commented, reaching for the girl's arm.

With a cruel smile she reached the girl's stubby arm and twisted it harshly, causing the girl to gasp out in pain. Lorein was actually surprised she didn't see it coming, especially given her reputation of sorts. The girl tried to kick back, as if to get back, yet Lorein used her knee to hit her in the gut, causing the girl to crumple. "Weak." she spat, letting go of her arm. With a booted foot she pressed on the girl's back until her nose was pushing against the ground, a whimper and a light crack present.

"You should say sorry, you know." she paused before harshly muttering. "Pathetic excuse for a trainee." with a kick to the girl's leg she walked away.

**O.O.O**

"Welcome!" the wide eyed escort whispered happily to himself. He was glad to have been assigned to district two, one of his personal favorites. In fact he was ecstatic, and had to keep himself from jumping up and down excitedly. Finally, after what felt like _ages _he was where he wanted to be! Sure, maybe it took some intense lessons and bribery here and there, yet it was definitely worth it.

Though he couldn't help but notice he was in debt, and the betting he did over the past years surely wasn't helping.

Clearing his throat he watched as the mayor gave his typical speech. Now really thinking about going up there, he felt nervous. He knew he wouldn't mess up, yet what if his new friends thought he was uncool? He just didn't know what kind of escort to be! He felt the urge to be different, but didn't know how to go about it. Maybe he should've gotten fireworks? Yes, that would've been a great idea. Yet he'd just have to settle with doing as such next year, it was a little to late now. He was positive that the Capitol would adore it.

"Now to the reapings!" the mayor concluded, giving a taut smile. With uncontrolled gusto, the escort skipped over to the microphone.

"District Two! So glad to be here!" well, that wasn't what he was going say before. He felt his paled cheeks heating up, yet continued anyway. "Let's start with the ladies, as usual! Don't want to stray from what you're used to." he pointed his finger toward the crowd with a grin soon reaching toward the bowl on his right. "Atlanta Cavanough, please come right up!"

"I volunteer!" a voice harshly stated, a blonde female soon upon the stage.

_'It's even more exciting in person!' _he thought, having trouble keeping the grin off his face. "Your name, dear?" he handed her the microphone.

"Lorein Grentee." she stated simply, her eyes lightly narrowed. She handed it back to him, as his eyebrows raised.

"Grentee? Kind of like _green tea_? M-"

"Get to the male's!" she snapped, crossing her arms. His happy expression fell slightly, he felt hurt. "Yes, onto the male's!" he exclaimed, forcing a smile upon his face. He still felt a little bit sad, though he wasn't sure as to why. Maybe it was because of the girl's hostility? At least he thought that was the word."Mav-"

"I volunteer!" a voice boomed cutting the escort off. There seemed to be a confusion in the mass of boys as a rather small male pushed forth. He seemed to purposefully push people as hard as he could if they were seemingly in his way. As he boarded the stage he snatched the microphone out of the escort's hand with a proud grin. "Cassius Largent, your future victor, Panem!" the short boy looked upon the crowd as the escort politely tapped his shoulder.

"I'm going to take that.." he said, nodding to the mic. Quickly he grabbed it, soon opening his mouth to speak. He was about to just announce the tributes, yet suddenly it dawned on him he didn't introduce himself! How could anyone remember him if he didn't give a name? "I'm Merritt Vilsco, and _these _are your tributes! Shake hands you two." with a suddenly giddy expression he looked from the two as they begrudgingly shook hands.

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><p><span><strong>District Three:<strong>

Nothing would ever make this right, nothing. No matter how much Kastria preached it, Emin knew it was wrong. Of course like everyone else she wanted things, maybe she was a bit aggressive. Yet, she never resorted to stealing. Unlike her friend who was explaining the excitement behind it all, how her first steal was from some cheap shop barely staying afloat.

Emin found it ridiculous how happy her friend was with it all. Did she not know there were other ways of getting something? Like working hard for instance. Did she not know how she would be punished? Emin imagined it would be a terrible punishment. With an angered breath she threw the necklace on the ground, causing her friend to frown.

"Why'd you do that?" Kastria asked knotting her fingers together in anxiety.

"What do you mean?!" Emin spat, kicking at the plastic necklace which was gray in color.

Kastria seemed to gulp and take a big breath before bending down to pick up the item. Written on her paled face was sadness and an odd look of guilt. _'Good.' _she thought, _'I hope she feels guilty, that idiot.' _Emin continued to glare as her friend placed the jewelry in her pocket.

Kastria sighed, running a hand through dark hair. "I'm gonna get going." she said blandly, causing Emin to scoff and look watched as she disappeared beyond the smog filled streets, and into her house which was close. Emin really wished that her friend would stop giving her things she had illegally gotten. She wanted no part of it, yet her friend insisted. Well, not insisted, more so presented. Even the times when Kastria claimed she bought the item, Emin knew otherwise.

She wasn't dull.

With an angered sigh she began her way to her own house, she had to get ready.

**O.O.O**

Emin tugged on her blouse, wishing it was longer. It would be nice to have something actually have something that she could tuck into her skirt. She believed it would give off a better aura or something of the sort. Besides, all the successful people she knew(female wise) had their shirts tucked into their skirts. The only way to be successful was to follow those who already were.. or something like that.

She was rather short so she had trouble seeing the stage, though she didn't particularly want to see it much anyways. She just wanted to get home and finish her latest project, one that involved lots of research in the 'District Three Library', clever name it was. Thankfully, the familiar sound of heels clacked across the stage, giving a misplaced feel of gratitude.

"District three." the silver eyed woman said tersely into the microphone. She seemed to wish she wasn't there, and nobody could blame her. Though for a lady of the Capitol she had no right, it wasn't like she understood. Who really wanted to wait to see if you or someone you cared about was about to be either broken by victory or killed?

The woman on the stage said nothing else as she dipped a small hand into the female bowl, picking the first one her fingers touched. Without so much of a warning, Emin's name came out of her lips. Emin felt herself freeze in shock. How had _she _been picked?! She felt as if she was going to vomit and her legs began to wobble uncertainly beneath her. No one made a move for what seemed like a long while, and Emin felt her heartbeat increase. She was positive her heart wasn't supposed to be pushing against her ribcage, seemingly as if it was begging to end her life right then and there. Part of her wouldn't mind if it did.

Peacekeepers were on her is mere seconds as her legs continued to wobble hooking their rough hands around tense arms. Soon she was on the stage and she could feel everyone staring at her, waiting. Weakly she looked to the escort as she opened her lips again, this time spouting another name. A boy by the name Zwölf it seemed. Emin quickly looked to see a boy with unkempt brown hair walk up the stairs, a dash of surprise in his eyes. The boy was rather held together though, his eyes seeming to analyze his surroundings.

"Shake hands." the escort continued, stepping back slightly to give them room. Emin looked from the escort to the boy soon placing her paled skin on his. With a light squeeze from both sides the escort let out a sigh of relief. Emin huffed angrily, did this woman not expect her to cooperate? Wait.. perhaps she didn't give a sigh of relief, or a sigh at all. Everything was becoming a slight blur as she was led into a room by a peacekeeper, the door closing behind them. She could swear everything sounded distant and fuzzy, like bad phone reception.

She mused she should get her hearing checked.

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><p><span><strong>District Four:<strong>

He wondered if after he returned as victor, could he get away with murder? Though at the point in which he returned from the arena, wouldn't he already be one? So killing someone useless wouldn't result in punishment..right?

He hoped so, because everyday he saw that woman just prancing about he felt his blood come to a boil. Oh how he hated her, that stupid,stupid woman. It was all her fault after all! He had to stop himself from punching a nearby wall as he walked toward the town square. Reapings wouldn't be in another half an hour or so, but Keating hoped to get a good spot. One that would be ideal for reaching the stage first.

With an oddly calm demeanor he continued on his walk, wondering about what this year's theme would be. And by theme he meant the stage theme, for it seemed every year it was decorated with something district four related. Like last year they had what seemed to be dead fish, of course it wasn't their best year. Most people had to admit they preferred the tacky seaweed and sand to that.

The air seemed to be reek of salt as he continued along the sun kissed boardwalk, though he supposed it always did. Especially so close to the ocean as he was. Soon he came across a man standing behind a cart. Of course there were several more in the area, yet this one stood out to him. Maybe it was for the fact they seemed to sell odd trinkets of sorts? Of course the rest of the mobile shops sold odd things from 'good luck fish tails' to a statuette of the president.

The latter sounded better to him, honestly. Probably because of the days in which he would go out on the ships his family built, and they would catch nets of fish, crab and odd mutations. Some of them reeked out death and he had to bite his tongue to keep from vomiting. He wondered why no one who ever bought a ship left district four, into the sunset and past the vast ocean. He personally loved it where he was, but others.. their dislike was obvious.

They could get away, he mused. _He _could get away, but that was a ridiculous thought. He wasn't allowed to think like that, in fact he didn't want to.

"Hi." the man said suddenly, interrupting Keating's thoughts.

A small scowl formed on Keating's mouth, "How are you?" he asked, though he wasn't particularly interested.

"I could be much better, business is slow this time of day." a glint flashed in his eyes as a small smirk began to form.

Keating raised an eyebrow. "This time of day? Or all the time? I don't know who would want to buy.." he trailed off poking at a feathery object. "This."

"You?" the man offered his smirk growing.

He scoffed, looking away. "Not particularly."

The man hummed thoughtfully to himself, trailing his fingers along the feathery object Keating had touched. After a pause he asked. "Why not?"

Keating furrowed his brow. There was something condescending in the man's tone. "What- I don't know what you mean." he responded stiffly, though he couldn't understand what had sparked such a response. It wasn't as if the man's words really meant anything, and all they were doing was just prodding some feathery object. He supposed he was the one doing the prodding, yet that didn't matter. "I'm leaving." he finished simply only to be interrupted by the man.

"Why?"

"Stop asking me questions!" Keating spat, his hands curling into fists.

His smirk grew further. "I'm just curious, Cullen boy." he paused as if contemplating something.

Keating's eyes narrowed at the use of his last name. Of course he was proud of his family.. sort of. "I'm _leaving_." he said with finality.

"You say it like we're dating."

"What? I barely even know you!" he exclaimed.

"Are you implying you wish to date me?"

Keating blushed slightly. "I think saying 'I don't know you' tells it all. Besides I-"

"So you're not sure?"

"What?!" he said, his mind briefly considering his next words. "How do you even get that from I'm leaving?! Seriously I-"

"I added 'you' to the end." the man interrupted simply, shrugging. Keating scoffed, turning on heel. An odd part of him wanted to continue the conversation because it intrigued him, confused him because he wasn't sure what was going on. Yet what he considered the rational part of him propelled him to town square imprinting the faint words of 'that escalated quickly' in his brain.

**O.O.O**

This years theme was semi-decent most supposed, much better then the year before.

A light film of sand covered the stage leaving dark undertones visible. Strung about either bowl and bordering the stage were festively colored lights, still shining bright despite the sun that seemed to be competing. Three tall, colorful wooden carvings erected from the ground, held in place by visible nails. Each seemed to depict an animal or mutation or a mix of both.

They weren't the most attractive totem poles, for all of them held expression nobody could quite decipher. Not to mention the weird little things sticking out of them from every vantage point.

"District four, welcome! Let's begin with the females as we _always _do!" the escort seemed annoyed as they plucked a slip from a bowl. "Blaid Bangkok.. S...R?" the escort tilted their head in confusion at the S and R. It was strange, who put two letters at the end of their name? Was it just for fun or something?

"I volunteer!" a high voice suddenly squeaked out only to be ignored as a girl with dark hair began to mount the stage. The girl quickly took the microphone from the escort's hands, or at least tried to. With a hardened grip the escort's eyes narrowed, only for her grip to lessen as Blaid continued to pull at it.

With a clearing of her throat she brought the device to her mouth. "It is _senior _not SR." most cocked an eyebrow yet the girl seemed fairly content. Gently the escort grabbed the microphone, bringing it to her lips. With an annoyed expression still on her face she paraded over to the male bowl, dipping her fingers.

With a clearing of the throat she spoke, "Carver Dermitt."

Though, as expected a voice (or multiple at the that) screamed 'I volunteer!' Instead of the boy who the escort assumed to be Carver, a redhead pushed through making his way upon the stage. The oddly muscular 15 year old who before was about to be sent in the games gave a glare, as if annoyed by what happened.

The redhead seemed to mumble something into the escort's ear and she nodded. "Keating Cullen, your male tribute!" a few snickers were heard and Keating's eyes seemed to narrow, only increasing Carver's own glaring toward the pale like boy.

"As always, please shake hands." she interrupted, giving a flair of her hands.

Keating quickly reached his hand out as Blaid looked at it with a friendly glance. After a moment she grabbed his hand in her olive one, giving a light shake. Then, as if about to exclaim the secret of the universe she leaned in. "You know.. I'm going to become international." she said in confidence, a grin stretched on her face. Keating raised an eyebrow and removed his grip, giving a somewhat hesitant nod.

Today was surely confusing.

And the escort was not impressed.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm about half awake here but I finally updated! I hope this chapter makes sense, I'll have to look at it later. Updates though. Pretty exciting, huh? ;D Anyways, still in need of a few more tributes! <strong>

_**Questions! ^.^**_

_**-Any stand out tributes?**_

_**-As most ask, was the writing any good? I do hope to get better and what else. :)**_

**Oh, and I hope to update Dreaming of Nightmares as soon as I can :) Thanks for reading and a review would be appreciated :D**


	4. Important!

**Hi! It's Dissection of The Mind and I'd like to apologize for not updating in like.. a ****_really, really _****long time.** **I've been having some difficulty with inspiration and am trying to get it back. Also mentally I've been a bit down in the dumps and haven't had any motivation to do anything.**

**I feel much better now and hope to get back to writing. In fact I have a plan, sort of. To make it easier for me I'm going to organize stuff and write out plot points and certain things I would like to happen. I shouldn't get stressed then!**

**This will be deleted after a set amount of time(this 'chapter'). **

**~Those who are reading this, I'd appreciate if you'd go to my profile and see the notice I posted. Thank you c: **


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